The idea of a "well-lived life" is a central theme of my novel, A Good Hard Look.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about what it means to live one's life "well" and the many different forms that this can take. It is far easier to recognize a well-lived life than to define what makes it so, and an improvement of Aristotle's efforts will not be attempted here.

However, in drawing up lists of people I admire, some common threads became apparent. I found that I have a great deal of respect for courage, and moral courage in particular. There are many good people in the world, but a much smaller number of them have the bravery to stand up and do the right thing when personal risk is involved. So, a well-lived life is surely a brave life.

I also have the highest regard for effort. Those people who make the most of what they have and strive to squeeze every drop out of every day are always an inspiration to me. A well-lived life must be an industrious one.

There are other virtues, of course, but a "well-lived life" could surely never be one of moral cowardice and sloth. (Wife-beaters and slackers are therefore disqualified, regardless of accomplishment.)

There is one more feature shared by everyone on my list. They all - regardless of field - achieved something extraordinary during their lifetimes, and in so doing made themselves inspirational examples of the heights that humanity can reach. This project is a celebration of those heights and the remarkable people who reached them.

Lives Well Lived

1. Flannery O’Connor (1925-1964)

At the age of twenty-six, Flannery O’Connor was diagnosed with disseminated lupus, and given five years to live.

She was staying with friends in Connecticut when she fell ill. Flannery had left the South after college with no intention of returning for more than an occasional visit. She had attended the famous writers’ program in Iowa, and done a stint at Yaddo. She’d worked on early drafts of the novel Wise Blood while living in New York City. When she felt her shoulders begin to tighten during a harsh northern winter, she attributed the discomfort to arthritis. She was a gifted writer who was building a reputation; she had her whole life ahead of her. She brushed off her friends’ concern, but planned a trip to visit her mother. When her uncle picked her up from the train station in Georgia, he barely recognized the pale, crumpled girl on the platform. Flannery was, although she didn’t know it at the time, home for good.

Flannery endured steroid shots, surgeries, blood transfusions, a strict diet and a litany of medications. Her hair fell out temporarily, her face swelled, and she had to use metal crutches to walk. She kept her sense of humor though, and almost never complained about her situation. Her letters from this period are bright, sarcastic, and concerned about the world beyond the borders of her family farm, Andalusia. She developed a quiet routine that allowed her to devote her limited strength to her work. In the morning she sat at her desk and wrote stories. In the afternoons she rocked on her front porch and composed letters to faraway friends. She wrote to the poet Robert Lowell, “I have enough energy to write with and as that is all I have any business doing anyhow, I can with one eye squinted take it all as a blessing.”

Flannery traveled occasionally and reluctantly, to give talks at various colleges. She found the trips taxing, but accepted the invitations for the financial remuneration. Otherwise, her social life was limited to Andalusia, and therefore to her mother, Regina. The two women had a close, complicated relationship that is hilariously depicted in Flannery’s letters, collected as a volume in The Habit of Being. Regina didn’t understand her daughter’s fiction, but she loved and respected Flannery, so she created a life on the farm that supported both her daughter’s work and her health. Regina also permitted Flannery to populate the farm with her beloved peacocks, despite despising the noisy birds.

Flannery completed two novels and more than two-dozen stories while battling lupus. She wrote stories that the reader experiences as a series of blows to the chest. The stories are often upsetting, the characters ugly, and the endings dark. The sentences are bold and sharp; her use of language is uncompromising. A paragraph written by Flannery could be penned by no other. Her voice is unmistakable, and inimitable. Her stories also hold up a mirror that is important to face. The truths she wove through her work are intended to make us uncomfortable—you will think, I am nothing like these awful characters. But you are, and I am too.

It’s difficult for me to write about Flannery O’Connor because she’s lived in my head for the last seven years as a character in my novel, A Good Hard Look. She exists for me as a semi-fictional character, as well as the writer of some of the best short stories ever written. I know the facts about her, and I know the internal life I created for her. Neither is the whole truth, and so I hesitate as I try to depict her here. This struggle feels appropriate and familiar, however; Flannery has always demanded a lot of me. I wrote endless drafts of my novel and in particular, hundreds of drafts of her scenes, because I wanted the book to be worthy of her.

In the end, Flannery defied the doctor’s prognosis. She was given five years to live; she took thirteen. She died when she was thirty-nine years old. She is now an acknowledged master of the short story, and an icon of American literature. Her place on this list of “well-lived lives” is hard earned. Flannery was dealt a horrible blow with her diagnosis; many of us would have taken to our beds in her position, lost to a black hole of self-pity. Flannery refused to do that. She had the bravery to squeeze value out of every minute she had left. She poured herself into her work. She was robbed of time, energy and a future, and still she chose to reach for the moon.

Dear Ann! I’m Natalia from Russia. I read books for publishers. I read your novel about Flannery, and I’ve been deeply impressed for several months. This is a great book, you’re gifted indeed, I’m your fan now. I’m awfully gratefull. Thank you for your wonderful world.

Ann
you were the talk of the dinner party last night in Lake Toxaway,NC. Your book is genius and so are you. I finished it last night,put it down and started it again this morning.
Thanks
Linda Stone(Atlanta)

I just finished A Good Hard Look. I thought it was wonderful. Thank you, Ann. I am reviewing your book soon for TLC Book Tour, but I was so excited, as well as sad, when I finished your book that I decided to visit your website again. After reading this section about Flannery O’Connor’s life, I had to leave a comment for you. I haven’t read any of Flannery’s stories or books yet although I’ve wanted to and meant to for quite a while. Your book has me very anxious to read her works now and experience Flannery O’Connor first hand. I am still thinking about your book, the wonderfully human characters, the event that shocked me, the subtle, meaningful behavior and so much more. I look forward to telling my blog readers about it A Good Hard Look.

I just finished A Good Hard Look for the BlogHer Book Club. I LOVED it and as soon as I was done couldn’t wait to find out more about you and Flannery O’Connor. I am 36 years old and consider myself a liberal Catholic. I had heard of Flannery, but knew nothing about her or her writing. Like the woman named Amy wrote above, now I want to read some of what Flannery actually wrote that inspired you to write such an interesting and thought provoking book. I am also interested in reading your other book to see what else you have been inspired to write about.

I love to write and have been blogging for over 4 years now (mostly about my five year journey through secondary infertility and loss, as well as parenting since then). I am so impressed with the time and effort you put into creating this novel. I am curious how much is true about Flannery and how much was invented. Either way I found it fascinating. You really developed the characters well. No matter how flawed any of them were, I still felt they had redeeming qualities and a chance to live a good life. I find myself still thinking and wondering about them and if those who survived are “on their way to a happy ending.” I read in the Wikipedia entry about Flannery that she loved to use foreshadowing in her stories and that is something else that I think you mastered in A Good Hard Look. Anyway, I should probably save some of this (or can incorporate it into) for my BlogHer Review. Thank you for introducing me to Flannery O’Connor and for writing this awesome story!

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you come across a novel that makes you want to crawl right into the story and be part of it, know the characters, live in their town and interact with them. That’s how I felt reading this. I could not put it down. And now I want to re-read Flannery O’Connor’s writing, too. I am avidly looking forward to more from Ann Napolitano. Thank You, Ann.

Ann Flannery O’Connor was a first cousin to my wife, Catherine Florencourt. I was intrigued by your cover. I brought Flannery a small peacock of from Thailand that is now among her artifacts on display at the University of Georgia in Milledgeville.

As a big O’Connor fan, I was excited to see how she might be portrayed in your novel. I’m enjoying it so far but am intrigued by the character Lona’s heavy marijuana use. I have a hard time believing a straight white woman in a small Georgia town would have access to that drug in what, the early 60s? Or be able to get the smell out of her car. What governed your choice to make the character a pot head given the constraints of that time and place?

Just happened upon your blog about Flannery and that you had been to Milledgeville while researching your book–which I did not know about but I will find and read soon. I live about 4 miles from Andalusia and we go there every so often. It is a beautiful place to visit!

I was no more than a couple of pages into ‘Within Arm’s Reach’ before I was overcome by a sense of deja vu…not because I found the topic or characters so familiar…it is your talent. I was overcome in much the same way a few years back when I first read ‘The Shipping News’ and Annie won the Pulitzer for that one, I believe. You are indeed in August company young lady and I look forward to anything else you choose to gift the world with in future with bated breath.